The Last Train

By Myron Edwards

Lucy, shouldn’t have gone to the bar, but she needed to relax, the presentation was tomorrow and she had to be ready because the agency was up against big boys from Maddison Street. If they won ADAMS, MELONY & CLARKE would be competing in the big pond. Lucy would present, but tonight Dutch Courage was what she needed. She sat at the bar, ignoring. the bar flies who flittered about her seat. She looked out of place in this bar, with her blue suit, white shirt, and blue tie, her blonde. hair short. her make up impeccable highlighting her radiant blue eyes. She checked her phone, it was just after twelve she was running late. She, left the bar, ran up the stairs and into a rainy night.

New York at this time in the rain was always frantic, no cabs, no Ubers all busy She ran towards the entrance to catch the last subway train. Lucy boarded the train, there were about a dozen people in her carriage, theatre goers and tourists, nothing to worry her. The train pulled away. She began to read the text about agencies and their pitches this week. Some big names on there she thought if this goes well tomorrow? The train stopped at the next station, four of the passengers got off, just as the doors were shutting, a group of youths got on. The doors shut, and they began to shout, with one taking out a spray can creating his own graffiti.

Lucy put her phone away in her bag and kept her hand on the bottle of Mace she always carried. The boys stayed their end of the carriage, she scanned the carriage there was just one other woman, an Asian clutching her shopping bag, her knuckles tight, she was middle aged her face showing signs of fear as she waited to exit the train.

The gang continued their antics, one displaying his technique with a switch blade, another carving his name on the seat rest. The train stopped, the doors opened, Lucy thought about getting off, but hers was the next stop. She decided she would sit it out.

She was the only female in the carriage, her only other passenger apart from the boys, was a man, who sat in the last seat before the door at the furthest end. Lucy peered down the carriage, he was dressed all in black, his face covered by a wide brim hat, he sat oblivious to the noise and banter and continued to read his book. the train rattled along, the carriages swaying, lights flickering, as the boys started to desecrate the carriage with spray paint and their knives.

Lucy avoided looking at them. What was odd about them, were they all looked alike, their jackets were short, their boots heavy and their pants ripped . All of them sported tattoos on their arms and hands, one of them, had a tattoo on his neck, a curled-up snake about to strike. So far, they had ignored Lucy, but now the taller one, turned towards her, he smiled, his face red and pock marked, he had been smoking crack most of the night and was high, he walked towards Lucy as she squeezed on her Mace bottle.

‘What have we here, he grinned as he moved towards her. The others followed, Lucy felt a shudder, she reached in her purse and gave the boy a ten dollar note. He grinned. ‘She wants to buy me off guys.’ Lucy said nothing, the boy got closer, sitting next to her. ‘Nice fancy outfit, I bet that cost a fortune?...’ Lucy ignored him.

‘…And I bet you have the latest phone and watch too, get an awful lot of crack with those.’ ‘But what I am interested in is what’s under that outfit.’ He stroked her leg. Lucy felt the fear. ‘I think she likes me.’ The train came to a stop, a red light was holding it up. The others approached the man reading.

‘HEY’ One shouted at the man seated. He ignored them and continued reading. ‘Hey, you it’s rude to ignore people.’ the short one said. The man in black didn’t move a muscle, this annoyed the boy even more. ‘Are you deaf you mother?’ The others began shouting.

‘DEAF DEAF, DEAF.’ Lucy was trying hard to keep her temper as the boy with the tattoo, began to run his fingers through her fair, teasing the blade, she knew if she grabbed the Mace, she would have her throat slit. The train still hadn’t moved.

The man read on, the younger one flicked his hand against the book and knocked it out of the man’s hand. The man looked at the boy, his eyes were black, his stare deathly, slowly he rose from his seat and began to walk towards the now terrified boys, he shed his boots and his hooves became visible, this cloven hooved figure followed the retreating boys as they tried to run, Lucy screamed as she saw the figure clearly.

By the time the train stopped at the station, the carriage was empty, the only trace was the blood, painted like graffiti. When the police got there, the only thing in the carriage was a book, laying on a seat, the lead officer picked it up. He read out the title. ‘Dennis Wheatley, ‘The Devil Rides Out’. He turned the pages, everyone was empty.

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